I Don't Want to be a Hero - Ch. 18

Hermione and Ron were diverted from breakfast the next morning by Professor McGonagall who informed them they had been summoned to Professor Snape's quarters. They were given a map but no reason for the summons. Consequently, on the way down, Ron was busy speculating on the reason.

"Snape's going to mesmerise us and drink our blood for breakfast..." Ron theorised.

"Professor Snape isn't a vampire, Ron," huffed Hermione. "Besides, he was nice to you just a few nights ago."

"It doesn't mean he's not up to something, Hermione," argued Ron. "The villain always fools the good guys by throwing them off-balance."

"But, he's being nice to Harry..."

"Except he totally embarrassed Harry in class the other day!" Ron exclaimed in triumph. "What's the good of being nice to a person if nobody else sees you doing that?"

"He does that to all Gryffindors, Ron," she said with exasperation.

"That's because he's a git," stated Ron flatly.

A door that was hidden in the dimness of the dungeon corridor opened silently. A dark voice from within purred, "Git, am I, Mr. Weasley?"

"Professor Snape!" gulped Ron with garish imaginings of detention covered in tree frog innards assailing his mind.

"If I had not invited you to breakfast... with your friend Mr. Potter... your insult would have merited a loss of points, and detention." Snape smiled evilly, and his dark gaze glittered. "De-boning... tree... frogs."

The sepulchrally charged atmosphere was abruptly broken as Harry stuck his head out from behind a drape of his teacher's robes. "Hi, Ron! Morning, Hermione! Come on in...! This is the coolest place ever!" Harry tugged Ron and Hermione past their teacher by their sleeves.

Coolest? Hm, not... too terrible, as far as compliments go, mused Snape to himself. What's cool about my quarters?

Professor Snape had the answer to his internal question as he closed his quarters door, and turned to look into his sitting room. Hermione was perusing the fraction of his vast library with wonder-filled eyes while Harry and Ron were at the double windows (drapes closed in the evening to keep out the wandering eyes of nosy mermaids) that looked out upon the glittering city of the Mer People beneath the Black Lake. Ron let out a gasp as the giant squid swam elegantly past the window.

Unseen by either of the two additional Gryffindors was a polite, very quiet, trying to be unobtrusive, Draco Malfoy who had scampered to a corner of the sitting room by his teacher’s desk to sit. Draco was observing Hermione and Ron, but there was a pinched look to his face of a boy who did not want to be left out of the wonders of Professor Snape's sparse sitting room.

"Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley, as loathe as I am to disturb either of your... picayune explorations of my room, before breakfast, I believe that Mr. Potter wished his two best friends to... meet... his new friend." Hermione tore her attention away from a small section of herbology books, and Ron and Harry turned away from the view of the Mer City.

"Who?" demanded Ron with a belligerence Snape would not permit in the privacy of his quarters.

Hermione spoke before their teacher, though, as she admonished, "Ron! Don't be rude. Who is it, Professor Snape?"

Harry had moved away from Ron who saw Harry move over to a dark, enrobed shape seated in a ladderback chair by the desk. Then he saw that it was a someone, and he was shocked at who it was. "MALFOY! He's not your friend, Harry! He's a snake!" Ron sneered as his fists curled, ready for a fight.

Professor Snape was glad that none of the three had the instinct to reach for their wands. He had previously removed Draco's knowing that his father had trained him to treat his wand as something akin to breathing. Draco though had jumped up from his chair, and had strode with malice towards the redhead.

The teacher stepped between the two boys before a fight could begin. "I can still take points, and assign detention," Snape warned. "Mr. Potter, if you would?"

"Sure. Uhm, Ron, Hermione, Draco's my friend so no threatening him. I want us all to be friends," said Harry hopefully.

"No way!" exclaimed Ron.

Hermione stepped up. She held out her hand to Draco. "I'm okay being friends. Hi, Draco."

Draco stared at the little girl's welcoming hand. He had known accepting Harry as his friend meant he would have to accept his friends but his mother had taught him that all Muggle-borns were inferior to Purebloods. He was reluctant... and then Professor Snape nudged his shoulder sharply.

"Manners, Mr. Malfoy," the tall wizard warned with a hiss.

Draco swallowed, and stuck his hand out, and grabbed Hermione's hand nearly expecting tentacles or poison barbs to hit him. Nothing did. Hermione's hand was warm, dry, and not at all bad. Not like that clammy sucker-fish Pansy Parkinson who had not left him alone since he had been Sorted into Slytherin. He gave the witch a tentative smile. "Hi, Grang... I mean... Hermione."

She smiled at him so brilliantly that Draco felt his heart fall with a thud to his feet. Ron saw the exchange, and fumed.

"Manners, Mr. Weasley, or I will... take... points," Professor Snape reiterated to the Gryffindor.

Ron let out a huff of annoyance, walked up to Hermione, pushed her aside, and stuck out his hand towards Draco. "Fine."

"Fine," Draco drawled in a passable imitation of his Head of House. He stepped past Ron, smiled oil-ly, and tucked Hermione's hand over his forearm. "Hungry, Hermione?" he asked solicitously.

"Famished!" replied Hermione.

Harry decided that all was well and ushered everyone over to a small table that Professor Snape had conjured for the Trio that was soon to become a Quartet.

"Now," began Professor Snape as he seated himself between Draco and Hermione. "You may eat whatever you wish for breakfast as long as your juice is Cranberry or Orange, you include a bowl of fruit, and nothing that requires..." he grimaced, "...maple syrup."

Ron's face fell to disappointed depths; he always had waffles or pancakes or crepes with maple syrup! Every morning. He was gonna die!!

Breakfast was over, and the day began with Charms.  Draco discovered he was in the midst of a dilemma; how was he to act around the Gryffindor Trio? Thankfully, Ron, still unsure of Draco, just decided to ignore him. Hermione was a one-woman witch with all the right answers so she was busy being a know-it-all swot. Harry was studious but also delighted to have his own wand to use in class.

Draco was, for the most part, left alone to his thoughts. He was ignoring Pansy Parkinson who was acting melodramatically insulted for all the Slytherins to see.

"Mr. Malfoy!" Draco looked up in alarm at Professor Flitwick. "Are you with us today?"

"Sir?" he asked in bewilderment. All the Gryffindors that were not the Trio were snickering, and a few Slytherins joined in lamely.

"I was saying, Mr. Malfoy, if you have decided to join us, would you demonstrate the charm for producing water?" Professor Flitwick did not appear angry but his voice was firm with its underlying reprimand of 'pay attention!'

"Of course, sir!" Draco scrambled up from his desk and to the front of the room. He snapped his wand out from his sleeve (Harry was delighted to see the same action that Professor Snape taught him) and he incanted, "Aguamenti!" The water shot from the end of his wand, and promptly into Professor Flitwick's face.

The Charms teacher spluttered with indignation. He growled, "Ten points from Slytherin, Mr. Malfoy!"

"You lost points, Malfoy," snarled a Slytherin first year that pushed sharply past Draco after hitting his shoulder.

"Wait until your father hears about this!" teased a first year girl. At that Draco winced. Maybe he had been saying that particular phrase a bit much.

"You’re useless..." Pansy smacked the back of his head, "Malfoy lost our House ten points. Git!" she hissed at him. Draco recoiled, and found himself doing so right into Ron Weasley.

"Don't worry about it, Mal... uhm... Draco," said Ron patting the shorter boy's back. "Your Quidditch team will make back the ten points easily!"

Draco smiled wanly. "My father's still not going to be happy about it."

"But you did the charm right, Draco," encouraged Harry. For him, it was funny that Professor Flitwick got drenched but the end result meant that the Slytherin performed the water charm perfectly!

Draco's smile was a bit brighter, "Yeah, I did, didn't I?"

Hermione had to add her two cents, "It was just points, though. Not detention." She smiled, something Draco did not intend to reflect but then she slipped her fingers into his, and well, he HAD to smile at that!

Two hours of Potions followed Charms and it was with a bit of running that the Quartet made it into the classroom before their teacher's blustery entrance. Draco slipped between Crabbe and Goyle, Harry and Ron sat together, and Hermione sat down beside Neville.

Seconds later Professor Snape arrived. The slamming of his classroom door underlined his arrival as he swept up the two step dais to where a podium stood next to his desk. He appeared to consult something on the podium before looking up, and blistering every student with his thunderous gaze.

"I do not care for this seating arrangement," he drawled. Leaving the podium he drew his billowing robes about himself, and stalked slowly down the aisle that separated Slytherin House from Gryffindor House. He waved his hands at all the rows of students. "Against the walls. Now."

Once the benches were all empty. He began to call out pairs of names in which he united Slytherin to Gryffindor.

"Miss Parkinson and Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley and Mr. Crabbe, Mr. Longbottom and..." he paused as he assessed the Slytherins that were left. The smallest first year was also one of the smartest. "You, Mr. Tarkanian. You and Mr. Longbottom." There were two more pairs, and then he announced the last pair, "Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Potter. In front of my desk, if you please."

Each boy grimaced across the room at each other but both hurried to the front desk that was right in front of their teacher's desk.

"Today we are working on the very simple Boil Cure that is to cure the presence of... boils." He eyed each of the new and uncomfortable pairs of students. His gaze settling uncomfortably upon Neville Longbottom. "I trust that everyone read the chapter I assigned last class?" He smiled darkly and answered his own question. Neville paled under the dagger-like stare of the professor. "Very good." His smile was thin, and decidedly dark. "From now on the one you are paired with is..." he moved swiftly to his podium, and turned sharply, "...your permanent partner. There will be no substitutions, no... tearful... pleas for a new, and thus, more companionable partner. You and your partner will share in points gained and lost, and detentions." He chuckled softly as he slowly turned away to wave his  wand at his chalk board where the recipe was appearing. "Also, and do not any of you forget this, if ONE of you fails, the other does, too. No matter how adequate one potion is, if the other is useless, smelly, sludge... expect a zero. Begin."

The two-hour class was mostly quiet especially considering the Gryffindor-Slytherin pairings. Murmuring was a hush, except for a raised hiss from Neville's partner, Antonius Tarkanian, as Neville's nerves were making his potion the worse for wear. As Professor Snape strolled around the classroom observing the student work being done he heard the aforementioned Tarkanian sigh in exasperation.

"You do realise, Longbottom, that we're going to get a zero today for your hideous work. No! You diced the aloe instead of slicing! Don't put it...!" There was a pouf, an emanation of smoke, and both boys looked at the grey-ish black mess that was Neville's potion.

"A zero, gentlemen," drawled the professor dryly. "Mr. Longbottom, pack up everything, and once your table is clear you may return to your common room. Mr. Tarkanian, you have 47 minutes of class left to finish your potion." As soon as he passed the two boys, Tarkanian grabbed Neville's collar and yanked him down eye to eye.

"After dinner... we're studying Potions, Longbottom. This isn't going to happen again." With whitened lips Tarkanian continued to work.

"Crush the snake fang, you lunk-head," grumbled Ron just as Professor Snape ghosted by the two boys, Ron Weasley and Vincent Crabbe.

Vincent Crabbe, who looked like he ought to get mad at his partner just from his size alone did not. "You sure, Weasley?"

"Course I am," sighed Ron. "Says so right here." He looked at the bowl of snake fangs Vincent had. "You got too many fangs."

Vincent squinted his eyes at the page of his book listing the recipe. "Where does it say how many you're supposed to have?"

Ron stared at Vincent with annoyance, "Read it, and you'll find out, dummy. You gotta have some bit of brain in that small head of yours."

Vincent's eyes flared with anger. He picked up his bowl of snake fangs and threw them at Ron. Ron yelped but then pushed Vincent. Vincent immediately punched Ron in the eye, and yelled, "Don't call me a dummy, you ugly weasel!"

In a flash Professor Snape had caught both boys by the collars of their robes and held them tight before either could cause a worse mess than a spilled bowl of brittle snake fangs.

"Zeroes for you both," he snapped without raising his voice. "A loss of 25 points for disturbing the class, and an additional ten points for fighting." The professor let them go after a sharp jerk for each boy. "Mr. Crabbe, escort Mr. Weasley to the Infirmary. I will consult with Madame Pomfrey to make sure you made it. If I hear of one further infraction from either of you, there will be a points loss of 50 points added to what you have both already lost."

Professor Snape moved back into the aisle to further keep an eye on his students while both Ron and Vincent glared at each other, cleaned up their area, and packed their book bags. Just before they reached the door of the classroom, Snape added, "Seven o'clock, detention. Now, get out."

Pansy and Hermione had nearly worked in perfect silence. Pansy, though, kept muttering under her breath little barbs towards her partner.

"Shut it, Parkinson," Hermione hissed.

"Am I annoying you, Granger? Making you lose count of your stirs?" Pansy sneered.

"I can count just fine when someone whines at me, Parkinson. Don't you forget to add your porcupine quills." Hermione, seemingly composed, continued to stir her potion, and then dropped in four horned slugs. Without looking at Pansy who was stirring her potion, then glaring at her Gryffindor partner, did not let the girl unnerve her.

"Miss Parkinson, you are stirring a delicate potion," murmured Professor Snape as he stopped at their table. "not whipping eggs for breakfast."

"Sorry, sir," mumbled Pansy. Once her teacher was further down the aisle Pansy glared at Hermione. Hermione did not bother to look at the pug-nosed Slytherin.

Harry and Draco had their heads bent over Draco's book although Harry's book lay open in front of his cauldron. Both had crushed the right amount of snake fangs, added them, and were now working on the four horned slugs.

"It just says to drop the slugs in, Draco," whispered Harry.

"I know but when Uncle... I mean Professor Snape would come to the manor he taught me this potion and he always sliced the horns off of the slugs, and then sliced the bodies," explained Draco.

"Uncle?" asked Harry as he glommed onto that slip of the tongue.

"I am Mr. Malfoy's... godfather, Mr. Potter," Harry jumped and glanced behind him at his teacher. Harry wondered where he had come from. "Slicing allows you to add more of your magic to the slug, thus making it more efficacious to the end result."

"More zits get popped!" said Draco with obvious relish.

"Poor jest, Mr. Malfoy," riposted Snape. "And, it is incorrect. Boil Cure does nothing to acne." He glanced at the little Gryffindor who was watching the teacher speak to his Slytherin. "Mr. Potter, I know you read the chapter on Boil Cure. Tell me, what does it do?" He stood straight. "Speak loud enough for everyone to hear, Mr. Potter."

Harry suppressed a scowl towards Professor Snape. He did not like this oily git that slipped around the class putting the fear of dark things into everyone. But then, Professor Snape HAD paired him with Draco; why?

Taking a deep breath, and ignoring Hermione who raised her hand with the obvious answer, he replied, "Boil Cure will reduce the inflammation of the boil so it can be safely cleaned, or removed, if needed."

"Textbook answer, Mr. Potter, but correct. Five points for Slytherin and Gryffindor." Professor Snape continued his supervising, and left the two new friends.

"Slice the slugs?" asked Draco.

Harry nodded. "Slice'em."

By the end of the class there were only two absolutely perfect Boil Cure Potions. Hermione's failed when Pansy slipped an extra dash of crushed snake fang into hers. They both received a zero for the day. Pansy really did not believe her Head of House would give her a zero, but she was wrong.